


Sonata Lamentosa

by TheBlindBandit



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: Angstober, F/F, Pre-Crystal Tokyo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-19 22:30:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2405267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlindBandit/pseuds/TheBlindBandit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The time for the rise of Crystal Tokyo draws closer, but Uranus and Neptune have no known place in it. Haruka/Michiru, Setsuna, Usagi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sonata Lamentosa

**Author's Note:**

> Promptfic for docholligay's Tumblr HaruMichi Circle Same Prompt Fic Party - Angstober edition.  
> Prompt: Consider who wakes up to find the other died in their sleep.

_I. Allegro_

 

The battle for the fate of the Solar System was not going as anyone had anticipated.

Although the signs had been haunting them for weeks, even months, and through no lack of visions and highly informative prophetic dreams; for all their preparation, training, and grand plans, they were losing, and the world was paying the price alongside them.

With three senshi down, more and more of the city being reduced to rubble, and civilian casualties numbering in the thousands, it was clear that the time for the rise of Crystal Tokyo was drawing inexorably nearer.

In the heat of combat, among the dust and blood and wave after wave of snarling, misshapen monsters, the gleaming city of crystal some of the senshi remembered seemed like a dreamed-up, far-off utopia. Today’s battlefield was what was left of the once shining and busy Shibuya Station – now ground zero of a trans-dimensional invasion, the gaping maw of a portal opening and closing over the combatants’ heads periodically, spewing out new enemies almost as quickly as the senshi could defeat them.

Uranus and Neptune were fighting side-by-side, as was their usual. Pluto and Saturn held the other flank, while Venus had Moon’s back and called out orders and formations when necessary.

“Venus!” Uranus barked out as a youma did its best to take her head off with its oversized pincers, only to meet with the business end of the Space Sword, “this is pointless! There’s no end to them! We have to close the portal, or we’re all done for!”

“And just how do you suggest we do that?” Venus shot back, firing off a salvo of Crescent Beams.

Neptune ducked under a distressingly scorpion-like monster’s stinger and, in a smooth continuation of the movement, brought forth her Mirror. One Submarine Reflection later, their goal became clear: a strange parking meter-like device was what enabled the portal to stabilise each time it appeared.

“Focus your attacks on the machine,” Neptune shouted, “the energy should be enough to overload it and shut it down for good.”

Saturn and Uranus wasted no time. Within seconds they were upon it, Sword and Glaive glowing brightly with concentrated power, and swinging down in perfect sync.

The portal exploded.

“Uranus!” the cry ripped its way out of Neptune’s throat the same moment Pluto called out for Saturn. Seconds later they were both thrown off their feet by the ensuing shockwave, and by the sound of it the same had happened to Venus and Moon.

When the dust settled and the air finally cleared, both Saturn and a now-untransformed Haruka were lying prone on the ground, but only one of them was showing any signs of life.

“Haruka-papa,” Saturn gasped out, struggling weakly upright in an attempt to pull off her gloves, then move to within reach of her grievously injured parent. She managed to get close enough to lay both hands on Haruka’s unmoving chest, the purple glow of her life-sharing power shining brighter than any of them had ever seen it. There was another violent, blinding flash, and Haruka was writhing in pain, choking and gasping for breath, while Hotaru lay perfectly and deathly still a little further away, where the recoil had thrown her.

 

_II. Adagio_

 

“Michiru, you’ve been here five days now. When was the last time you ate?”

It was Setsuna, of course. None of the others- of the _remaining_ others, would have ever dared to talk to her like that, or to barge into the hospital room uninvited, piercing the murky, gloomy atmosphere of it with their presence.

“I don’t remember,” Michiru murmured bleakly, her undivided attention never leaving Haruka’s currently very still form on the bed.

“Well, I’ll tell you,” Setsuna’s tone was kind, but growing sterner, like the one she’d used on Chibiusa to warn her against revealing important details from the future, or in the few very rare cases of Hotaru misbehaving. “It was one day, seventeen hours and twenty-eight minutes ago, when Usagi gave you half of her favourite candy bar.”

Michiru made a noncommittal sound and resumed her vigil, gently stroking a thumb over the knuckles of Haruka’s left hand.

“I know our bodies can take a lot of punishment, but this is not the time to be abusing those abilities. Did you sleep at all, even for a few minutes?”

“No!” Michiru almost barked at her companion, finally turning to face her fully, then softened at the sight of her flinch, “No. No sleeping. I can’t sleep. And you can’t tell me to relax, that she’ll be here when I wake up. Nobody can promise me that anymore.”

Her grip on Haruka’s limp hand was so tight she felt bones grind under her fingers. Taking a few deep breaths, she forced her traitorously trembling hands to relax slightly – but not letting go, never letting go.

“I can’t leave her.”

Setsuna met her eyes sadly, and softly sighed.

“Would you like me to stay with you?”

Michiru paused in brief thought, then nodded. Setsuna pulled up a chair, but reconsidered at the last minute before sitting down. Instead, she moved to sit on the windowsill behind Michiru, out of the way in the corner of the room. On the sidelines and out of sight, but still a comforting, watchful presence.

“She- she still speaks to me, sometimes.”

“Oh?” Setsuna prompted softly, when more didn’t seem to be forthcoming right away.

“She wakes up, sometimes for a minute or two, sometimes for longer,” Michiru began picking her way through the words, like stumbling through a thorny underbrush, words she needed _someone_ to hear, “They have her on- on morphine, and stronger things, I’m not sure, Ami would know- but I think, sometimes, it’s not enough. It’s like she’s in pain and she makes these _sounds_ that won’t stop- but no, oh no, what if they stopped- and I can’t help her and I _hate_ it, I hate it so much…”

“Shush, Michiru. You _are_ helping her. You’re with her, and that’s all she’s ever asked of the world.”

Michiru fell quiet, mulling over the small comfort to be had in the words, motionless past the slight movement necessary to press a soft kiss to Haruka’s hand.

They waited, together, as the last remains of their precious and painstakingly built-up little family crumbled around them.

-

Just past sundown on the seventh day after the battle, Haruka’s condition took a dramatic downturn. The details and finer points were lost to Michiru in a blur of nervous, hurrying doctors and nurses reacting to shrill alarms from the many machines and instruments around the room, insisting she was underfoot until Setsuna got up and finally all but dragged her out into the hallway.

The two of them sat in uncomfortable plastic chairs opposite the door of what was the most important room in Michiru’s life right now, and waited, both perfectly calm on the outside, watching medical staff scuttle about, wheel Haruka out on a gurney and return her some unidentifiable amount of time later.

A grim-looking doctor walked over to them not long after, took a long look at Michiru and, with a badly concealed shudder after meeting her gaze only briefly, turned to Setsuna to ask her some simple questions about his patient’s next-of-kin.

Michiru felt like she was underwater, floating, and trying to see and hear what was happening on the surface, never quite managing to catch more than a few passing remarks. Somewhere in the back of her mind she could have sworn she heard Ami’s voice reciting the common symptoms of shock and psychological trauma, as if reading straight out of one of her medical tomes or flashcards, doing some last-minute repetition for an exam she would never get to take.

“…chiru. Michiru!”

Setsuna had crouched down to be eye-level with her, Michiru registered dimly. She managed an acknowledging nod.

“We can go back inside now, to see her. And to stay with her.”

Michiru got up before Setsuna had even finished speaking, and was in the room and by Haruka’s bedside within moments, desperately taking in every detail of her: the curve of her mouth neither turned up into a charming smirk nor down into a threatening scowl, the paleness of the cheeks that had been so delightfully prone to blushing, the almost complete and horribly uncharacteristic stillness of her, used to running and jumping and bouncing and fidgeting endlessly, even in her sleep. Haruka was barely, barely there- but she still was, and Michiru felt the tiniest chunk of the weight lift off her heart at the fact.

She sat down, as close to the bed as she could manage, and took Haruka’s hand between her own once more. There was just one more thing to do.

“Setsuna,” Michiru began, haltingly, ”you’ve been very kind to us, and to me, and I thank you for that. Could- could you leave us, now? Please?”

It was Setsuna’s turn to give a small, sad nod and wordlessly slink out of the hospital room, careful to close the door behind her as quietly as possible. Michiru continued her silent vigil, lovingly caressing the hand she clung to like a lifeline.

When the first light of dawn broke through the curtains, she gently lowered her head to rest on Haruka’s shoulder, in a pale imitation of her favourite way of falling asleep.

-

She woke, blurry and disoriented, to the sound of a single uninterrupted tone. Once enough awareness slipped back for her to realise what the sound meant, it was ringing in her ears like the death knell that it was.

“Haruka,” she called, quietly, at first, raising her voice only when no response came, pointless panic seeping in, “Haruka. Haruka!”

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She’d envisioned it - she’d dreamed it, oh, had she ever, so many nights - but each time it would be them going together or not at all. Or one of them lying in the arms of the other, murmuring a few poetic last words, a beautifully phrased goodbye, followed by a mercifully quick, heroic death.

Not like this.

If Hotaru had been here, to help with her healing, or Ami, with her uncanny knowledge and skills…

If only she’d-

 

_III. Minuet and Trio_

 

“Bring her back.”

“Michiru, I-”

“Can’t you bring her back? Isn’t that why you came here?”

“I don’t-” Usagi’s sniffly stammering suddenly felt unbearable, grating on Michiru’s nerves like it never had before.

“ _Can you do it?_ ” She caught Usagi with her most intense stare, holding her pinned down like little more than a dead insect under a collector’s scrutiny.

“I- I can try, Michiru, I can-”

“No!” The sudden, loud interruption made them both whip their heads around to look at the door. Setsuna stood there, looking as frazzled and disarrayed as any of them had ever seen her - even Michiru, who had lived with her for years, who had raised a child with her, and on occasion done her very devious best to break the otherwise flawlessly stoic woman’s composure.

“But Setsuna, if I just use the Crystal-”

“You could die yourself, and then where would we be?”

“I can control it, I promise, I-”

“No. I can’t let you take that risk, Usagi. _Princess_.”

It felt like they were talking over her, around her, everywhere except at her, but with that one word Michiru felt the weight she had been barely keeping at bay with this last little bit of hope move in to crush her. There was an endlessly wide chasm opening up before her, not two steps from her feet, and she was about to dive into it headfirst. She knew, of course, as she had always known: none of them _really_ mattered, none of them but the Princess. Rei had been expendable, so Rei had burned. Makoto had been expendable, so she’d gone down, taking an entire army with her. Ami had been expendable, for all her vaunted knowledge and intelligence. Even Hotaru had been expendable, in the end.

And Haruka had…

“I’ll do it!” Usagi was shouting by now, still gasping through tears, a silver glow emanating from her and slowly flooding the room, “I’ll bring her back, and then I’ll bring back R-Rei and Mako and- and Ami and Hotaru and we’ll _all_ be together in Crystal Tokyo, like you promised!”

“Princess, you don’t understand-”

“I don’t care!” Usagi’s voice was still rising in pitch, and her hands were folded over her chest, a blinding light shining from between her fingers.

Michiru sat, mutely, not daring to cause a disturbance and barely even daring to breathe, silenced by both sudden hope and the fear now clawing up her throat - because Setsuna had said… Setsuna _knew_ things, and what if-

A searing flash left behind it a girl transformed. In the place of Usagi stood a brilliantly glimmering princess, the trail of her pearly dress clashing with the cheap linoleum hospital floor, the intense radiance clutched in her hands still seeping through her fingers.

And then her focus was on the hospital bed and on Haruka, the light seemingly pouring into her and driving her Star Seed out of her unmoving chest. It floated, twinkling, a brilliant navy blue, catching the rays of the Silver Crystal, reflecting them back and drinking them up in turn, spinning in place slowly and becoming entangled in the silver light like in so many threads. It was the single most beautiful thing Michiru had ever seen.

But then Usagi- or the Princess- gasped, and the light wavered. Michiru tore her gaze from the Star Seed and saw the state of Haruka’s would-be saviour. She was deathly pale, with sweat beading on her face, shaking, and fighting for breath. The hands holding the Silver Crystal trembled, and her legs threatened to give in. But she grit her teeth and the silver threads around the Star Seed weaved together even tighter, and Michiru could have sworn there was a tinge of colour slowly returning to Haruka’s cheeks.

Usagi gasped out again, but before she could refocus her efforts, Setsuna was on her, tearing the Crystal from her hands and catching the Princess as her legs finally gave out. The light flashed, painfully, then winked out of existence.

The Star Seed dulled, cracked - and crumbled into fine dust, leaving behind it nothing more than a few grey traces on the sterile white bedsheet.

In the shocked silence of the hospital room, under the shadow of a death more final and damning than any of them had yet had a chance to know, above the roar of agonized waves rising and hammering mercilessly in her head, something became horribly and finally clear to Michiru. “You were wrong, Usagi.”

“You weren’t listening,” she continued, dully, when no response came from the swooning girl, “nobody ever said we would all be together in the future.”

“Michiru, I’m sorry, I’m _so_ sorry. I never meant for this to happen. If there were any other way-” It was Setsuna, sounding almost panicked and frightened for the first time in as long as Michiru could remember, extending a hand and gently laying it on Michiru’s shoulder.

She shrugged it off and turned on the woman, almost violently, perversely satisfied when she saw the ancient, eternal Time Guardian flinch away. She met her wide, stricken eyes briefly; just long enough to see the hope for forgiveness appear in them - and die away almost as soon as it had come.

“I hope you enjoy spending the rest of eternity with the knowledge you personally ensured her death, ruining any chance of rebirth, or reincarnation, or _whatever_ you call this damned cycle we’re cursed with.”

“Michiru, please-” Again Setsuna, again trying to be reasonable, or apologetic, or comforting and understanding, or any of a thousand things Michiru currently found detestable.

“It should have been you lying there, not her!” She was certain she sounded like a petulant child now, but she was so far from caring she could have laughed at the idea, preferring to, for once, spill out all the bitterness she felt boiling over in her, “Why wasn’t it you?”

The genuine hurt evident on Setsuna’s face brought her no satisfaction and nothing resembling relief from the crushing, oppressive cloud of grief. For a very brief moment, Michiru even considered apologising, but the impulse was far from strong enough to truly move her. Besides, it was better this way; she could cut the last of her ties more easily – after all, there’d never been any word of Neptune in the future, either.

Michiru turned and left, without another word.

 

_IV. Rondo_

 

The next time any of the survivors saw her, Tokyo was lying in ruins, the final battle was upon them, and their ranks were even thinner. Venus was gone from Sailor Moon’s side, but Pluto was still there, of course, that ever-present and unshakeable shadow that seemed to love dogging them, no matter how unwanted or out of place she might have been.

Disgust, hatred and, above all, a traitorous doubt stirred in the pit of Neptune’s stomach when those sad, sad eyes turned to gaze at her.

 _I don’t want your pity,_ she wanted to scream, but, of course, a lady never raised her voice _. If you hadn’t- Haruka could have been here, alive, with me, if you hadn’t- if I hadn’t insisted- if_ **I** _hadn’t-_

_I-_

_Me, me, me, it was me who killed her, me-_

The realisation was what sent her to the floor, retching dryly through a sudden onslaught of sobs, held in for so long. They were by her side almost instantly - of course they were, the soft-hearted fools.

“Nep-Michiru,” it was Sailor Moon, her hand rubbing Michiru’s back in gentle, soothing motions, “I’m so happy to see you’re al… you’re back.”

“I couldn’t bear to stay away when I felt it. The ever-dutiful soldier,” Neptune gasped out, with the best bitter twist of her lips she could manage under the circumstances, “I guess I’ve come to die.”

She wasn’t given much more time to reflect, or appreciate the looks on the faces of the two remaining senshi. Their enemies were once again on the move, and the three of them were surrounded.

The odds were obviously and overwhelmingly against them, but they were doing everything in their power to take as many of their foes with them as possible. Pluto did what she could to shield them with projections from her Garnet Orb, but she was no Saturn, and the barriers were growing ever weaker as she cast them. No matter how quickly Moon and Neptune cut and blasted and smashed and drowned entire packs of enemies, the monsters and the flood of dark energy pressed onwards. It was all only a matter of time.

Neptune found herself in a strangely comfortable state of detachment. She kept her focus only on evading stray attacks and conjuring her next deadly wave. It was almost a relief, the way she could think of _nothing_ , her usually busy, racing mind completely empty while this rather menial battle lasted. It was precisely the relief she’d needed so, so badly in the days since Haruka…

The weight of the body slamming into her drove Neptune off her feet and sent her flying. She landed, stunned, in a tangled heap behind a convenient outcropping of singed concrete and bent iron, a perfect bit of shelter in the middle of the battlefield. Sailor Moon, who’d had something of a better landing, rushed over and crouched by Neptune, helping her up.

Once they’d both gotten their bearings, they finally spotted the prone form of Sailor Pluto lying not far from their hiding place, and realisation sunk in. She’d taken hits meant for the two of them, saving their lives, but the barely-there protection of her Talisman wasn’t enough to save her. Sailor Moon was soon bent over her dying saviour, clutching onto her fuku and sobbing into her collar. Neptune moved closer, as well, overwhelmed with the feeling of there being one last thing she had to do for the woman who had been part of her family for years.

“I didn’t mean it, what I said to you in the hospital,” she spoke quietly to Pluto, maneuvering her head onto Neptune’s lap in an effort to make her final moments at least slightly more comfortable, “I’m sorry.”

“Yes, you did, and you still do,” Pluto murmured, her transformation starting to unravel into dark ribbons, but her voice still holding steady, “It’s alright, though, I’m used to it, and I understand. I don’t blame you.”

“You were the greatest fool of us all, in the end, and really trying for the softest heart,” Pluto managed a small, pained smile upon hearing the words, and Neptune continued, almost angrily. “What were you thinking, saving me like this? If you’ve come to know me at all after all these years, you _know_ that without her I’m… over.”

“I know- I know you can do it, Neptune.”

And then she was gone, untold thousands of years vanished into thin air, with no-one to remember them. Neptune put her down, reverently, even gently, remembering almost at the last moment to reach down and close her eyes.

She was the only one left, now. The world was in shambles, and its queen was kneeling amongst the ruins of her would-be capital, crying like a child. Casting a glance around her and forcing herself to take in the wreckage of their and many others’ lives, Neptune tried very, very hard to care.

_A world without Haruka…_

_Without Haruka,_ her own words came back to haunt her.

_A world without Haruka…_

She swallowed, and stood up straight.

“Usagi.”

There was no response but more wet, wailing sobbing. The kind Rei would have sternly scolded her princess over, patting her back comfortingly all the while, the kind that made Makoto awkwardly smile and put her hand behind her head, promising Usagi all the cookies that she could fit in her oven. The kind Hotaru could have stemmed with a few quiet, gentle words, even as young as she had been. The kind that always had Haruka at a loss, backpedalling and looking around for help. The kind-

“Princess.” No, that wasn’t it, either. The world needed a Queen, now.

“Serenity. Your Majesty.”

There, that had gotten her attention. Usagi’s blotchy, tear-stained face was raised and looking at Neptune now.

“Saturn is gone,” Neptune began, slowly and calmly, allowing the words to sink in, “and with her our chance of turning this into a clean end and a fresh start. You understand, don’t you? We have to do it ourselves.”

The queen of the world was still kneeling huddled on the floor, shaking, dripping tears and hugging herself, a picture of terrified misery, but she was also listening, and the beginnings of a dawning realisation were in her eyes.

Perhaps she would pull through, as was her habit. All the others went to their deaths believing in her. Neptune would have believed in her, too, perhaps, if she had it left in her to care. She would do her part and play the duty-bound soldier. If Usagi could do hers, then let her; if not, well, it hardly mattered now.

_…isn’t worth saving._

Neptune would burn herself from the inside out with whatever power was left at her disposal, and she would call up tides and cleansing floods the likes of which the planet had never seen. Usagi could do with the world what she wanted, then, but Neptune, and Michiru, would be _done_.

“Goodbye, Usagi. Long may you reign.”

A smile, like the rest to end the final movement of a long sonata.

The seas roared in applause.


End file.
